Singed
by Spark Of Insanity
Summary: Not that I'm upset or anything, but, aren't you like supposed to, I dont know . . . stay dead?" Leon/Claire - Wesker/Claire. AU.
1. Chapter 1

**Friday, September 17, 1999**

**7:04 A.M.**

**Long Island, New York**

After she stepped outside Claire could tell something was out of place. She locked her front door behind her and walked out of the gates surrounding her house. A strong scent had filled her nostrils. Like food being burnt, except she was outside, so what was it? The smell overtook her and she took another deep breath trying to identify it.

_Fire_

Claire turned to look down the street and seen people gazing to the sky behind her with horrified expressions. Fear and concern etched on everyone's face, some pointing to the sky and straight ahead of them. She turned around and noticed the thick black smoke rising from a house far down the road. A blaring horn cut the silence the peaceful suburbs offered and red lights flashed into view as a fire truck turned the corner and raced to the house. She stood still for a moment then started a quick jog in the direction of the fire.

She passed by her neighbors and stopped when she reached the blazing spectacle. The house was covered in flames, the deadly embers spreading. The windows were broken, supplying more oxygen for the flame to blaze. The wooded roof and walls were falling apart and into themselves. The intense flame started spreading to the side garage and engulfed everything. The roof of the attached garage collapsed in and Claire saw the sleek, black muscle car disappearing behind the amber blaze realizing just whose house it was.

The man excluded himself from the neighborhood. Nobody knew his identity. The only times people claimed to see him was when the car came or left. No other times had anybody seen a head in the window or any guests arriving. The man, or even woman, kept themselves away from the eyes and activities of the suburbs.

The fire sizzled and then blazed a bit stronger after the firemen started to douse it. The gallons of water sprayed onto the flames, which finally started to die down. Almost as fast as it had started, it ended. The charred and burned wood was all black and only the first floor of the three story house stood. Black was the only color visible in and around the house. A man grabbing her arm snapped her back to her current spot.

"Please step back, miss." A fireman said, his voice a bit concerned. He gently nudged her backwards as cops and paramedics arrived on the scene. Uniformed men jumped from the cars and started setting up a perimeter surrounded by the yellow 'Police Line Do Not Cross' tape. She nodded and backed away.

**Tuesday, September 14, 1999**

**9:48 P.M.**

**Unknown**

_Tap. Tap. Tap. Click._

**Access Denied.**

_Tap. Tap. Tap. Click_.

**Access Denied.**

_Tap. Tap. Tap. Click._

**Access Denied. **

_Shit. This happened sooner than I expected. Damn it, I need that information. I'll have to go to the Umbrella base and get it myself. I need a tissue sample as well. I can no longer benefit from Umbrella anyway. They have fulfilled their purpose. _

Wesker drummed his fingers on the table and held his chin in his hand. He mused over the different options of breaking into the base and acquiring the tissue he needed from the tyrant prototype. He quickly shut down his laptop, packed it in his briefcase, and gathered the other files he needed for his work. The tyrant project was doing particularly well, especially after the dud in the mansion incident. Wesker smirk. How trusting those fools were. Their faces paling and the looks that resembled kicked puppies were priceless. Worth the years he spent fumbling around the imbeciles, cursing Umbrella for wasting his time. _But damn Chris Redfield to Hell_.

Chris destroyed the base of the tyrant project. He and William spent countless hours trying to perfect it, and then Chris comes to spit in their face by destroying the start of a new weapon. How long they suffered finding the one person who's DNA matched accordingly so that something so brilliant could be created.

He would kill him. Oh how he'd enjoy ripping his limbs apart. Torturing him until Wesker saw fit. Then maybe he'd kill him. Or not, choosing when the time came. His watched beeped. An annoying ring breaking his thoughts. He clicked a button and walked towards his bed. Wesker laid down and closed his eyes. Oh yes, he'd kill Chris, the plan slowly forming in his mind as he drifted into sleep and a dream surfaced. A dream where Chris was dead and he was the ruler of his empire of perfected soldiers.

**Wednesday, September 15, 1999**

**10:39 A.M.**

**Umbrella Corp.**

"Mr. Faustin? Mr. Wesker is here to see you." A voice chirped through his phone speaker. Dimitri looked at the phone briefly before holding a button and speaking.

"Let him through." A thick Russian accent accompanied the deep voice emitted from his throat. "I am expecting Mr. Wesker." He smoothed what hair he had left on his head before turning his chair to the door of his office. The knob turned with a click and his secretary led Wesker through his office door.

"Thank you, Mallorie. Please make sure to not disturb us until Mr. Wesker has gone." Mallorie nodded and quickly closed the door leaving the two umbrella employees alone in the dimly-litted room. Dimitri gestured for his guest to take a seat. Wesker chose to stand, towering over the Russian in his chair.

"Dimitri, my access codes aren't working. Is there a problem with the database?"

"No, there are no problems. They are not supposed to work, the system codes were rewritten and changed yesterday evening."

"Because?" Wesker's voice dripped with malice.

"In preparation for your resignation today." Dimitri's face held a crooked smile. Wesker's eyes narrowed behind his sunglasses. The Russian continued speaking, "You did not think I would find out about your late night visits to the labs? And what samples you may have stolen? I have been onto your escapades Mr. Wesker, your experiments as well." Wesker smirked slightly at Dimitri's words.

"Dimitri, have you forgotten that this is Umbrella? That we are supposed to experiment. Is that not the reason we have human specimens and viral research? You're accusation is only proof of my dedication to the research."

"You can not fool me into thinking that. I know what you are up to; Umbrella may be fooled but not me. I know that you and William were the cause of the Raccoon City incident and the mansion in the Arklay mountain region. That is why you leaving could only be a result of your resignation; there was nothing to terminate you. I have already finished making your resignation and I have handed that in, under your name of course. It is truly a shame that you would want to leave Mr. Wesker," Dimitri feigned a frown. A scrunch of leather could be heard as Wesker clenched his fist in anger. He leaned over Dimitri's desk and placed both hands on it. He knew he could do nothing to keep the job here, but he could damage Umbrella in the public's eyes.

"It is a shame I will be leaving, such potential wasted. I will gather my things before departing although most of it is located in the lower labs." Wesker's voice kept its monotone characteristic despite his anticipation of Umbrella's collapse. Wesker turned and opened the office doors, "Farewell Mr. Faustin."

**Friday, September 17, 1999**

**6:12 P.M.**

**Long Island, New York**

_"So dinner at Alba's after I get off work?"_ Leon's voice questioned through the phone. Claire smiled, she hadn't been on a real date with Leon after they became 'exclusive' and was looking forward to it.

"Sure, we haven't done anything like that in a while."

_"I know, I know. Sorry, work has been kind of busy lately, but, uh,"_ Leon's voice turned husky and seductive, _"I can make it up to you."_

"Oh really now? I can hardly wait. Will you indulge me with details?" Claire giggled, twirling strands of hair between her fingers and chewing her lip slightly.

_"I would bu- hey stop that!"_

"Leon? Is everything ok?" Claire's brows furrowed when she heard Leon laugh before the sound was muffled.

_"What? Oh, yeah, sorry Claire. Eight at Alba's ok? Got to go, bye."_ Leon rushed out before hanging up the phone.

"Yeah, great. Love yah too, Leon. Ugh." Claire sighed and rested her forehead against her hand. She dropped the phone back into its cradle. She crossed her arms over the other on the table and dropped her head against it. He was probably just joking with his boss or his coworkers. She nodded briefly before getting up to walk to her bathroom. Quickly undressing and checking to make sure there was a towel. She turned the knobs for the shower before stepping in, letting the hot water surround her.

**Wednesday, September 15, 1999**

**11:56 P.M.**

**Umbrella Corp.**

_Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Clink. Swoosh._

Wesker smirked as the glass doors slid open, revealing the main experimental wing of Umbrella's underground facility. He swiftly walked to the steel refrigerators that held the different types of viruses and samples of experimental tissues. He didn't bother typing in the code this time since it had changed and it would clearly waste the little time he had. He blatantly ripped the steel doors off the hinges and examined the labels on the glass vials. He opened his briefcase and withdrew samples from the fridge, carefully placing them in the cushioned case. Next, Wesker took some petri dishes of tissue samples from the different mutated B.O.W.'s. He turned to make his exit noticing the flashing red lights. At least he got the samples cleanly without leaving a trace of his presence behind.

**Thursday, September 16, 1999**

**12:04 A.M.**

**Unknown**

"The alarms in the Umbrella facility just went off. There is only one explanation. There is no other way to take care of the problem than to what we had previously agreed. Do it. . . Yes, that one. . . I don't care. I just want him dead. . . I see, well, that can surely be arranged. . . Yes he is a traitor, an imbecile too, why else would he try to steal something from the highly secured facility? He needs to be taken care of as soon as possible. . . Have you taken care of the bribe yet? Do you want me to do it? Sure, I'll call them when we are done arranging this. . . Yes, yes, I will call them too. . . Ye-" Dimitri's speaking was halted by a hand. A hand piercing his body cavity and holding his heart. Dimitri's hand flew above his heart, his throat gurgling, choking on his own blood.

"Umbrella is finished. Too bad you won't live to see the day where human's pathetic existence will cease and a breed of perfect beings will dawn. Your time is up." Wesker whispered smoothly into Dimitri's ear before clenching his fist. Dimitri's heart exploding as a result. Wesker withdrew the bloody hand, wiping it on his victim's clothing. He inserted a portable hard drive into the laptop and began extracting incriminating files against Umbrella, hell-bent on making them pay.

**Friday, September 17, 1999**

**6:50 A.M.**

**Long Island, New York**

Wesker ran a hand through his wet hair, slicking back the locks briefly, the cascading water bringing them in front of his eyes once again. More soap suds were released from his hair as he placed his head under the running shower. Steam rose from out of the shower, fogging the glass and tile in the room. He lathered soap on his body, cleansing him from his actions from the previous day. Stopping before soaping up his arms, he inspected his fingernails briefly. Blood was crusted beneath them. Sighing he dug under them to remove the offending remnants of Dimitri Faustin.

He stood once more under the stream of warm water, letting the remainder of the soap rinse off his body. Wesker turned the shower knobs which halted the water. He stepped out and grabbed a towel, drying his hair. He took a deep breath. Something was wrong. He sniffed again, identifying the foreign scent as fire. He inwardly cursed as he dropped the towel and stepped out his bathroom.

Black smoke filled his hallways and drowned out any light source. Luckily, Wesker's eyes had adapted to dark environments, making navigation throughout the house child's play. He quickly made his way to the bedroom on the second floor, attaining his briefcase and securing the items contained inside. He began to walk back towards the hallway when the floor beneath him collapsed. He fell on top of burning wood, a flaming piece piercing his abdomen. He quickly stood up and ripped the singed lumber from him. His body reluctantly went on, trying to escape the flames and danger.

Wesker heard a crack from the wood above him and cursed. He looked up before feeling immense pain in his head. He fell to the floor once more, his grip on his possession never yielding. The fire quickly spread from the house to burn his body. He could feel his skin melting and rebuilding under itself in matters of seconds. His eyes were slits that vaguely gazed to the ceiling, momentarily widening once more flaming pieces of the house fell upon him. Trapping him and engulfing him within the blazing fire.

AN: Sorry if the grammar sucks, I am literally half-asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Sorry it took so damn for me to update, was kinda in a huge funk since I wrote my stories on my old G1 and had a bit done. Then this lady at the store factory resets it without telling or warning so I lost all my stories there :(

Anyway Enjoy :)

p.s. it's a bit short sorry .

* * *

**Thursday, September 16, 1999  
****11:00 A.M.  
****New York**

Umbrella's destruction, something so massive and critical, was enclosed in a thick, beige envelope. Several of them, actually. Addressed in neat, cursive handwriting all headed to major news companies around the tri-state area. Inside were documents, letters, and even video files incriminating them for their 'inhumane' experiments on both animals and humans. Even names of the top scientists involved in the experiments evidence pointing to Umbrella for the epidemic of Raccoon City were included.

Of course only he knew, not even the petite woman behind the bulletproof glass of the post office window could ever suspect the package in her hands would destroy the most powerful company in the world. Wesker's smirk grew slightly bigger as she smiled behind the counter. She placed it a bin but when she turned back the mysterious man had been long gone

**Friday, September 17, 1999  
****8:37 P.M.  
****Long Island, New York**

Her feet ached as her sore feet walked on the hard concrete. Her heels in hand, having been taken off beforehand when she started her trek home. She crossed her arms over her chest, trying to warm her body as a chilly breeze blew over in the night wind. She turned her face away from the oncoming breeze and found herself looking at the debris from the burnt house. Yellow tape was still in place all around the property. Her eyes moved over the sight, widening when she thought she saw slight movement. She cautiously stepped forward and narrowed her eyes, trying desperately to get a better view. Several burnt planks moved accompanied with a sound that made Claire gasp.

_A moan? Zombies here? Why? The problem should've been solved with the destruction of Raccoon!... but what if it's a person? Or a helpless child stuck beneath the rubble? And if it's a zombie? I have nothing to defend myself with… _

Her eyes flashed to the heels in her hands, a small smile forming on her lips.

_Well, here goes nothing…_

**Friday, September 17, 1999  
****8:10 P.M.  
****Long Island, New York**

"Hey, honey, can you bring me some of your best wine?"

The waitress smiled and nodded, a wink hidden from Claire. Leon smirked back at her, noticing how her hips swayed as she left. His eyes reverted back to Claire. She didn't notice his straying look. Her eyes lost in the menu.

"I think I'll have some pasta."

"No salad?" Claire immediately rolled her eyes.

"No, you should know I'm a burger type of gal," She smiled before taking a sip of her water. "But since this is a wee bit fancy I'll get some pasta instead."

"Alright then," He said with a smile, to which she responded with a wink. The waitress arrived, two wine glasses in one hand and a bottle in her other. She placed them down, poured Leon and Claire a glass each, and turned to leave. Leon's eyes once again traveled to her rump, but this time Claire noticed.

**Friday, September 17, 1999  
****8:39 P.M.  
****Long Island, New York**

Claire carefully walked over to where she heard the slight moaning and saw the movement. Her eyes darted back and forth once again trying to find any more movements or indication of life, even if it was undead. Her hand gripped her shoe tightly. She saw more movement and heard a pained groan. She quickened her pace and found herself right in front of the slightly moving pieces. She took a deep breath and lifted a heavy piece. Her eyes widened and the shoe dropped when she saw the blackened body of a man. His breaths were short and ragged, his chest moving up and down rapidly. Her eyes darted to the shiny metal briefcase in his hands. The untouched metal gleamed, even in the darkness of the night with the faded streetlight above.

Ignoring the questions in her head she started removing the rubble from the man's body, only to discover he was rather naked. Her cheeks slightly darkened as she grabbed the man from his torso and began to drag his body away from the house, she laid him flat on the dry grass outside of the yellow tape. She noticed the briefcase was still in his hand. Claire removed any thoughts from her mind as she stood the man up, leaning his full weight on her body and she steadily brought him to her home.

**Friday, September 17, 1999  
****8:25 P.M.  
****Long Island, New York**

"Leon, I think you've had enough," Claire said as she held the wine bottle away from him. She had just finished her second glass while he was up to his fifth.

"Jou kno' wha Chlair. Ima gwrown mahn now. I cahn doo wha I wanna 'kay? Gimmeh the bottre"

"Leon, no. And I know you've had too much 'cause you were flirting with her!" Claire harshly whispered.

"Chlair baby, I flirt wif peeppuls avl ofv the timeh" Claire frowned. "Just ask Awa. We firt avv of de time," This time Claire turned red. She grabbed her bag and stormed out of the restaurant, leaving behind a dumbfounded, drunk Leon.

**Friday, September 17, 1999  
****8:49 P.M.  
****Long Island, New York**

Claire ran the warm water over her fingers, waiting for the tub to fill. The blackened, naked man sat in a chair not too far. He was still out cold although he breathing did slow from before. Once the tub was half filled Claire brought the man to it and struggled to gently place him in the tub. She placed a sponge into the water and lathered soap onto it. The sponge traced his body, removing the black remnants of the fire. The water slowly darkened the more his body became clear.

Claire rubbed the sponge along his arms, dipping them below the water now and then to remove the dirt and suds. She moved to his torso, cleaning it ever so cautiously and slowly. She then leaned him forward to get to his back. After that Claire drained the water and let it run, concentrating on his feet for now. The more she cleaned the farther she moved up.

**Friday, September 17, 1999  
****6:30 A.M.  
****Long Island, New York**

"_Move quickly and quietly, leave no suggestion of your presence. Over."_

"Understood, sir, he'll be dead within the hour. Over and out."

The lanky man moved quickly from the bushes to the back door of the house. He made quick work of the lock and inaudibly made his way through the house, dousing it in gasoline while the shower ran and distracted the superhuman. Soon the canteens emptied and the man held a match. He lit it and watched the flame playfully dance. The match dropped and the one dancing flame became a horde of dancers twirling and twisting about the lines of gasoline lining the house. He walked away, out of the house, away from the only man capable of killing him.


End file.
